The Hardest Choice He Had to Make
by The Writer's Blockade
Summary: A sick murderer has threatened the most important thing in Jack's life- and it's not ghost hunting. How far will the well-meaning bumbler go to save his Maddie?
1. Chapter 1

**The Hardest Choice He Had to Make**

**Tragedy, Romance, Horror-- rated T for violence **

The news stand at the corner store had never sold so many papers!

It was great news for the stand. Business had been slowing; people were sick of the same kind of news. They had gotten used to ghost attacks and spectral terror after a while. Even the unfortunate fatal attacks had lost their novelty. Eventually, people just wanted to hear about something... different.

Well, different is what they got that Friday evening.

The main article today was titled: "Murder on Main Street!" And beneath it read the banner- "Strange human-committed murders were hugely publicized, but police remain clueless as to the killer's identity." The papers were flying from the shelves! Everyone seemed interested in the ghost-less case. Even Jack Samuel Fenton wasn't an exception.

The large man, clad in an orange jumpsuit, came strutting down the street, a small package in his overlarge hands. He seemed very pleased with himself about something and kept sneaking peeks at his little box, almost as if to make sure it was really there. Each time he saw it resting in his gloved palm, his merry grin grew wider.

Whistling now, he came to the cornershop. Being a very unobservant man, he would have missed the hubub around the store were it not for one woman's loud statement: "What has the world come to when ghosts aren't the most evil creatures to walk our streets?"

Jack, who had turned so fast with the word "ghost" that he had cricked his neck, hustled as fast as his girth would allow toward the bustle around the news stand. Seeing that the crowd was centered around the daily paper, he headed for the near-empty shelves and countertop. With difficulty, he reached the stack of papers displayed on the counter, leaving a trail of disheveled customers behind him. He stretched his arm down to pick up one of the boldly embossed papers, and ignoring the uncomfortable objections of his rather smaller neighbors, read the title.

Jack's eyes widened. A murderer in Amity? And one that _wasn't _committed by a ghost? His jaw tightened uncharacteristically. He clutched the paper tightly, his mouth set in a grim line. Jack would never have admitted it, but this news frightened him. After all, he was an expert in the paranormal, and the thought, as the woman had said, that ghosts weren't the worst thing floating around Amity Park, was bone-chilling.

Forgetting about the paper still clutched in his hands along with his precious package, he pushed his way back through the crowd, oblivious to the annoyed calls from the store hand. "Hey! You have to pay for that!"


	2. Anniversary Forgetter!

**Disclaimer! I don't own Danny Phantom.**

Maddie Fenton was growing impatient. Alone in her kitchen, she sat listening to the patter of her children's feet above her head. She frowned. The small steps of Danny and Jazz only reminded her of what was missing: the hard slap of Jack's heavy feet on the upper floorboards.

Her husband should have been home hours ago, but as per usual, he seemed to have forgotten that tonight was that one night he shouldn't forget; a night that no husband should forget. She sighed. Jack was so cute when he actually remembered their anniversary. The trouble was, he forgot it more often than he remembered. The last time he had, (on the right day, that was) had been four years ago. And what a time it was! When Jack didn't forget, he would always make it something for Maddie to remember. She smiled at the memory of his happy success.

_She felt self-concious in her flowing gown. The solid blue number of smooth silk, simple but flattering on her slim figure, pooled around her as she stepped onto the gold floor. The ballroom glittered with fake snow and the happy laughter of friends... and it all seemed too much! Maddie was too nervous to leave the entrance- until she saw him. Jack stood, looking finer than he had done even on their wedding day, beckoning with his ring hand. His smooth tudexo must have been woven with starlight; it shone so magnificently. His goofy smile was transformed to a smart grin, and Maddie had never seen anything more breathtaking in her life._

_"Come on, Mads!" Jack said in his booming voice as he approached her. Maddie smiled, and Jack smiled back, taking her slender hands in his own. _

Jack had suprised her by renting an entire ballroom, complete with fancy waiters and a beautiful gown. She had never heard "I love you" so many times in a single night, and she never remembered loving him more. She had never been so happy, had never felt so lucky to be held in his strong, yet gentle arms than that night.

As she sat in a sort of trance, the very man of whom she dreamed walked through the doorway.

Jack stared fixedly at the floor, a newspaper and a small box clutched in his hand. He didn't seem to notice Maddie sitting at the kitchen table. Still lost in her memories, Maddie might have missed his entrance if not for his heavy steps. She greeted him with a cool, "Hello, Jack."

Jack looked up. "Maddie!" He exclaimed enthusiastically. She smiled slightly at his honest happiness. Then, remembering that she was expecting something else, frowned again. Jack took in the look on her face, his own expression questioning. "What's the matter, honey?"

She stared at him in disbelief, stung. He really had forgotten again. She knew her Jack well; understood that even the biggest events could slip his mind. But it was a harsh reality check to wake from her daydreams of what had been to what actually was. She knew she should be understanding, that she should help with not-so-subtle hints or something, but she didn't care to be understanding just now. Her simple answer was: "Nothing. I'm tired. I'm going to bed."

She sighed and headed up the stairs, pausing only to say a quick goodnight to Danny, who was shutting his door while cradling a slightly bruised left arm to his chest. The result, she supposed, of another of his frequent stumbles.

She slammed the bedroom door harder than she had meant to, letting in bang shut. Angrily wiping tears from her eyes, she flopped onto the wrong side of the bed and sank into Jack's pillow.

She knew she loved him. And even when she felt this way, forgotten and unimportant in Jack's

life, she knew that he loved her back. She just wished he was better at showing it.

**I have some apoligizing to do!**

**Sorry I took so long to post. I have A LOT done, but I'm a really slow editor. Plus I forget a lot. .**

**Sorry the chapters are so dang short. They will eventually get longer!**

**Sorry for whatever else you can think of, including cheesy writing. **


	3. Jack and Jill

**Well, I had to start from scratch- My laptop crashed and I lost ALL my data. I know there is no excuse for waiting so long to post, so now I really regret it. I hope you enjoy anyway!**

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Jack sat in the kitchen, completely unaware of the drama taking place upstairs; the drama that he himself had caused. He was wrapped up in his own thoughts about the murder, the story of which was now being broadcast on the television he was barely watching.

The newscaster's face was somber as she said, "Five lives were taken in this violent and shocking murder. Committed in broad daylight in the busiest square of town, it is surprising to hear that there were no witnesses of the event. While the police have informed us that there is not yet an identifiable pattern between these victims to determine whether a serial killer was involved, the public is warned to take extra caution on the streets." The camera panned to a spot over the reporter's shoulder, zooming in on three men wheeling a gurney away, a white sheet draped over its occupant. The sheets didn't disguise the drips of red that followed the gurney all the way to the ambulance.

"The murderer," she continued, pushing her black hair from her eyes, "was identified as being human through a system set up by Amity's ghost hunting department- a grid that monitors the ectomplasmic activity in Center Square."

Jack looked up to see his own design for the "Ecto-deteco" flashing on the screen.

"At the time of the murders, there were only mild traces of ectoplasmic activity, the norm for our city's streets. According to experts, these amounts of ectoplasm would not have allowed for a fully formed spectral being."

"This just in," she said, holding a headset closer to her ear. She took a breath before continuing. "The victims have been identified as Jared Shumway, Allie Peterson, Cara Kwong, Giselle Valdez, and Gary Swift." She read the names slowly, pausing after each one. "Our hearts go out to the families of these five."

Jack shook his head. He had known Gary Swift- he was his professor of Mythology in college. And Cara Kwong; hadn't she been a friend of Maddie's?

"The strange lack of witnesses is being investigated further by police. We can only hope that the killer will be caught by Amity's finest soon. Back to you, Ted."

Jack turned off the television.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Up in the bedroom, Maddie had finished her crying jag. She knew Jack didn't mean anything by it. She knew Jack was just absent-minded.

She wiped her face, telling herself how silly it was to cry. Crying never solved anything. Action did. Pulling herself off Jack's pillow, she made up her mind to go wish him a happy anniversary, whether he had remembered or not.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Maddie passed Jazz in the hallway. Jazz had a first aid kit under her arm and Maddie wondered for a moment how badly Danny had hurt his arm falling down... the stairs, most likely. Her mother instinct told her to go check on him, but it seemed like Jazz was already helping out so…

She continued down the stairs to her husband in the kitchen.

Jack was sitting at the table, munching some toast and staring into space. Thinking. Maddie gave a small smile and walked up behind him to place her hands on his shoulders. He looked up. "Hey, sweetie," he said softly, turning to kiss her hand.

"Hey," she breathed, knowing she had lost the will to scold, yell, cry, or whatever she had been planning to do to get him to remember. She just wanted to sit there, safe and loved.

Jack glanced down at the table where the newspaper and package had been dropped. He stared at it and few moments. "OH!" he suddenly exclaimed. Maddie started, quickly releasing Jack's arms. "I didn't… Annivers-…oh!" He snatched up the package from the table. "I didn't forget! I didn't forget!" he sounded excited now. Maddie stood bewildered as he got to his feet and handed her the small white box.

"Happy anniversary, Madelyn." (*)

Maddie was shocked. He… remembered? At least, he had remembered _most _of the day and had forgotten for a short while, distracted by… something. Maddie felt even sillier for crying now. She accepted the package now, her heart light and her eyes watering with happiness. She looked into her husband's eyes and was met with the same delight, the pure feeling of mutual devotion and love.

Setting the package behind her, she rushed into her husband's arms and pressed her lips to his.

The package lay on the counter for the remainder of the day, quite forgotten as the couple blissfully celebrated their love.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**(*) I don't know Maddie's full name, but I think it's either Madelyn or Madison and Madison just didn't feel right in this situation. Correct me if I'm wrong, please!**


	4. Meanwhile, on the tube

Of two things Maddie was sure when she woke up the next morning: One, her husband was already awake and out of bed. (The bed frame had stopped rumbling with his enormous snores.) Two, last night had been one of the best nights she had ever experienced in her entire life.

She rolled out of bed smiling and stumbled sleepily to the shower.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"Maddie!" Jack exclaimed when she walked into the kitchen fifteen minutes later. The room was filled with smoke and an odd smell- someone (and it wasn't too hard to guess who) had tried to use the ecto-microwave to make breakfast again.

Maddie grinned. Jack gave a sheepish smile in return. "Toast?" he offered, handing her a slice. She took it from his black gloves and sat down in the seat to his right, biting into the slightly charred crust immediately. They ate in silence for another four minutes, then Jazz appeared at the end of the hallway. After a few seconds, she cleared her throat.

"Mom? Do you have a second?" Maddie looked up. Jazz stood at the kitchen door, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Maddie swallowed the last bite of her toast.

"Sure, sweetie. What is it?" Jazz opened her mouth slightly, ready to say something, but she seemed to change her mind.

Shaking her head, she replied, "Never mind. I'll ask you later. You're busy," and before Maddie could object, she had walked out of the room and back up the stairs. A door banged shut somewhere over the couple's heads.

Jack chuckled. "Teenagers, hmm?"

Maddie gave a reluctant smile. She would have to remember to talk to Jazz later.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Jazz reentered Danny's room to find that her brother was still sleeping, though it was now nearing nine o'clock. She smirked softly at the covers on the right side of his bed--she had fallen asleep on his floor the previous night after treating his arm and had probably pulled it off his bed herself. She remembered setting the blanket over Danny's shoulders and sitting on the floor near his bed to watch him for a while. But… she didn't remember anything else until she woke up that morning on the not-so-soft carpet, neck cramped from being propped up at an awkward angle on the nightstand.

Jazz recalled the way Danny hadn't seemed too worried about his injury the night before. This struck her as odd- Danny was usually terrified when he was visibly injured. He knew it might compromise his secret. But Danny had seemed strangely distant, like he wasn't really listening to her chiding. Just staring into space; not even flinching when Jazz had swabbed the gash on his forearm with hydrogen peroxide. When Jazz had asked what he was going to do to hide the bandages, he'd simply shrugged and rolled over, asleep almost immediately.

The ghost he was fighting- it must have been Spectra, Jazz decided. No other ghost got to Danny like she always did.

God, she wanted to talk to her mother about this.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Not for the first time that morning, Jack's eyes flickered to the television. Maddie could see he was thinking about switching it on, but he didn't want to do so in case she took it personally, like she was boring him.

"Jack, I don't care if you watch the news," she said with a smirk. Pushing her chair out from the table, she walked the counter a few feet away and clicked the power button. A news anchor's face swam into focus before the sound came on:

"…with two more events last night. The police remain baffled as to the identity of the killer, but-"

"Wait a sec- could you turn that up?" asked Jack. Maddie obliged. The voice boomed from the small speakers of the television set.

" …starting to put the pieces together, he says. With eleven dead in the course of two days, police say it is becoming more likely that the murders are the acts of more than one person. The public is advised to take extreme caution, especially in crowded and busy areas. At this point the killings have occurred in three very public regions of town: Central Square, Amity Stadium, and Wilmhier Train Station, yet the police have found no witnesses of the murder. We now go live to Mindy Fuller at the scene in Wilmhier Train Station, where only five hours ago four more lost their lives."

An attractive blonde woman appeared on the screen now, her too-red lips pursed slightly before she began to speak. "I'm here with Mr. Duren, an employee of the station who was present at the time of the murders. Mr. Duren, you say you saw the four men die?"

A thin man with wiry hair answered, somewhat shakily, "Y-yes ma'am. I did."

"Mr. Duren, the police have publicly stated that there were no witnesses. Are you saying you saw the four men killed, but you did not see the killer? "

Mr. Duren was shaking. "No- It's just like I told the police. I didn't see 'em _killed _I just seen 'em _dead. _One minute they…they's standing, and the next…" he was breathing heavily, and the blonde newscaster rubbed his shoulders and turned back to the camera.

With her mouth set in a grim line, she said, "Back to you, Ted."

"My God, I hadn't heard about any of this!" Maddie exclaimed, clutching Jack's hand. She gasped. "Thank heavens it's summer, I don't want to _think _about what might have happened to the kids at school!"

Jack nodded absently, pulling his wife closer.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Hmmm... I know where I want to take the story (having written it before, if you read the heading on chapter three) but I'm so SLOW at putting the ideas on paper. Or computer. Whatever. If anyone has some good writing tips, I would LOVE to hear them. I really want this story to turn out well.**


End file.
